


Rate the Date

by Cherry



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day, eruri - Freeform, possible reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry/pseuds/Cherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hange persuades Erwin to go on a TV show - 'Rate the Date'. It's the Valentine special. Which of the three potential dates will he choose? </p><p>Pure Valentine's silliness, based shamelessly on the UK TV show 'Dinner Date'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rate the Date

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff and romance for Valentine's Day. All other stories are on-going - nothing's abandoned. Updates will happen! 
> 
> 'Rate the Date' is stolen from the format of the show 'Dinner Date' in which one 'dater' chooses three menus from five, and then goes on three dinner dates at the homes of the people whose menus were picked. The dater then chooses one of the three to take on a second date at a restaurant. The two 'losers' get a microwave meal delivered to their door instead.

Erwin didn’t really know why he’d agreed to Hange’s suggestion _you should do something out of your comfort zone - how about going on a TV show?_ But, in a fit of temporary madness, he _had_ agreed, so he decided to make the most of the situation. It was too late to back out now, with a cheerful camerawoman and her bright-eyed assistant standing mere feet away him as he selected the three menus he wanted to try from a choice of five. The first one he discounted immediately because of the unsubtle and not very funny innuendoes in every course, from the _sausage surprise_ starter, to the _big boy beef_ main, and the _creamy dream_ dessert. The second one was more like it, the three courses featuring an interesting variety of ingredients, and the menu full of words like _piquant_ and _aromatic_. The third was a little pedestrian, the fourth promising, with its emphasis on alcohol and oriental spices, and the fifth gave him no information beyond a very simple list of courses, all of which, he had to admit, appealed. The _steak, cooked how you like it_ gave very little away, but Erwin liked the unpretentiousness of the menu.

“Two, four, and five,” Erwin decided, after giving the necessary running commentary on his thoughts as he re-read each menu aloud for the camera.

“Good – that’s all we need for today,” the director smiled when he’d finished. See you on the eleventh, for the first date.” Erwin had to pretended he hadn’t overheard when the assistant whispered to the camerawoman as they packed away their gear, “It’s just not fair! Why are all the hot ones gay?”

*

“Mike,” said the tall blond man at the door, holding out his hand. Erwin shook it enthusiastically. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, but Mike was a pleasant surprise. “I’m Erwin. Pleased to meet you.” He handed over the bottle of wine he’d brought with him, and Mike showed him into a cosy living room, all warm wood and woven rugs in glowing reds and oranges. The furniture had a distinctively Scandinavian feel. Erwin liked Mike’s home immediately – what he could see of it, with the camera crew crammed into the corner of the small room.

Mike handed him a drink that turned out to be a fragrant mulled wine. Erwin drank it gratefully while Mike went to finish the starter. It was strange pretending to be on his own with the whole film crew present; he had to try hard to resist looking towards them. As soon as Mike was safely out of earshot, the director stepped forward. “Good. Good start. Okay, Erwin, first impressions?”

“Oh – yes. Um… very nice.”

“Let’s try that one more time. Try to give a few details if you can. Specific words. _Warm_ , maybe, or _good-looking_.

“He seems very nice,” Erwin said. “Yes. Warm. Good-looking.”

The director sighed. “All right, we’ll take that for now. Might have to reshoot later. Let’s get on with the sofa chat, and then we can move onto the starter.” She raised her voice. “Okay Serena, send Mike back in for the getting-to-know-you segment!”

The date passed quickly, despite the many pauses for filming, retouching makeup, and re-shooting from various angles. Mike was initially quiet, but after the fish starter went down well he seemed to relax, and soon Erwin found himself in the middle of an interesting conversation about Mike’s childhood in Norway.

“Okay, but save that stuff for the next date, if you go with Mike,” the director said. “Stick to comments about the food, or the list we gave you – jobs, hobbies, all that.”

By the end of the evening, Erwin had decided that he didn’t really need to go on the other two dates. He felt a bit sorry for putting the remaining contestants through a pointless exercise, but he felt that he’d probably found what he’d been looking for since his last serious relationship had broken down nearly four years ago. Mike was attractive, sensible, quietly humorous, a decent cook… Although he’d only gone on the show to appease Hange and to get himself out of a rut, Erwin was beginning to feel an unexpected optimism about the date. When the director stopped him on the street outside Mike’s little terraced house and asked him to “rate the date”, Erwin had no hesitation. “Good conversation, good food – and I think there was definitely a connection. Yes, couldn’t really fault the date. I’d have to say four and a half out of five.”

“Not five?” the director pushed.

“Ah, well… No one’s perfect,” Erwin said with a smile, not wanting to admit that Mike’s habit of occasionally sniffing rather loudly had been a minor turnoff.

 

“I’d give the date four and a half stars,” Mike said, as the camera crew filmed him pretending to tidy the kitchen. He couldn’t very well explain to the crew that he’d found the startlingly handsome Erwin’s lack of scent disorientating, so he considered for a moment, then looked into the camera. “I guess no one’s perfect, but he came pretty close. Yes, I’d definitely like to see him again.”

*

Erwin stepped out of the shower, more reluctant than excited at the prospect of his second date. It was almost certain that he would doing little more than going through the motions to fulfil his contract with the TV company. He knew his attitude wasn’t fair on the so-far-unseen contestant, so he did his best to shake it off, dressing with extra care and selecting an even better bottle of wine than the one he’d taken to Mike’s. But, despite the sniffing, he knew that his choice was as good as made. Perhaps Mike had just been going down with a cold? His eyes had been very kind. There was a promise of more than just sex there – exactly what Erwin had been looking for.

 

The second contestant was smaller than Mike, dark-haired, with attractive deep brown eyes, high cheekbones, and an earnest smile. “Welcome,” he said, seizing Erwin’s hand. “I’m Keiji.”

“I’m Erwin. Keiji – that’s Japanese, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my mother’s Japanese. Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”

The date passed pleasantly - Keiji was a talkative and good-looking man - but aside from a shared interest in the gym and running, they had little in common. Erwin was secretly relieved – he hadn’t wanted anything to distract him from Mike. By the time he left Keiji’s smart apartment several hours later, he was looking forward to the day after tomorrow, when he’d be taking Mike for a second date – a meal at a restaurant chosen by the TV company. After that, they’d be free to meet on their own terms. Just one more date to get through. Erwin had given Keiji three stars, and hoped Keiji’s feelings about him would be similar.

 

“Two and a half,” Keiji told the producer, with a small shake of his head. “You couldn’t have found a better looking date, but a lot of the time I got the sense his mind was elsewhere. I’m kinda hoping he doesn’t pick me. I’ve been on dates like that before – really don’t fancy another one. No offence to Erwin, but I’m looking for someone who’s looking for me.”

 

“You’d have liked Keiji,” Erwin told his lodger, Hange, the next morning. “He has those high cheekbones you go for, and he’s a science graduate.”

“Oh – what field?” Hange asked, looking round from her laptop.

“I… I’m not sure. I don’t think he said…”

“You didn’t _ask_ him? Erwin, I know you like this Mike guy, but you have to give the others a chance too!”

“I know. It’s hard though. I think Mike and I could be something. It’s been a while since I felt like that. Even with all the film crew there, I felt really comfortable with him.”

“I get it. You like Mike. But _comfortable_ isn’t the only criterion you have, is it? What about sparks – that electric buzz?”

“Sparks? Don’t you think I’m getting a bit old for that? ‘Sparks’ don’t last. It’s the less glamorous, more day-to-day things that matter.”

“Hmm. Still helps if there are a few fireworks at the start though. And you’re only thirty-seven!”

“Thirty-eight, last October,” Erwin reminded her.

“Really? Okay, thirty-eight then. Even so, it’s never too late to fall in love!”

“Hm. Whatever that means.”

“Oh _Erwin_! When did you turn into such a depressing old man?”

“I haven’t,” Erwin replied, somewhat affronted. “I’m not! But I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that – not really. A couple of times I thought I did, but those relationships both fizzled out, and it wasn’t hard to let go afterwards.”

“So – tell me.” Hange pushed her glasses up onto her head in the way she did when she was about to say something heartfelt rather than coolly analytical. “When you met Mike – how did you feel? What did you think?”

Erwin was unused to examining his feelings. He frowned, remembering. “I was surprised by how tall he was – how good-looking. He had a nice smile, and a good, firm handshake. He made me feel at home.”

“Did you want to fuck him?”

“Hange, for God’s sake! There’s more to a relationship than –”

“Yes, of course there is. But _did_ you want to fuck him?”

“I… Yes. I thought that would be nice.”

“Pfft. Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“You already have _friends_ , Erwin. Talk to me again when you meet someone who makes you want to fuck him up against the nearest wall the minute you lay eyes on him.”

“Perhaps you think I should’ve gone for _sausage surprise_ guy?”

“Ugh. No. I didn’t say you had to abandon your good taste. All I’m saying is, you need _both_. Physical _and_ intellectual connection. Mike just makes you feel comfortable. That’s not enough. In my humble opinion.”

“When was your opinion ever humble?” Erwin asked.

“Can’t help it if I’m always right,” Hange replied with a little smile, pushing her glasses back into place and returning to her work.

*

Erwin did his very best to approach the third date with an open mind. He didn’t like to admit it to himself, but Hange had a point about Mike. There _had_ been an attraction there, but not the kind of flare of lust she’d been talking about. Still, plenty of successful relationships didn’t start that way. Look at Nile and Marie – friends for more than a year before they’d become attracted to each other. Or, at least, before Marie had fallen for Nile. Nile had been pretty much smitten from the start, Erwin knew. Perhaps one of you had to be?

Erwin could already imagine supermarket shopping with Mike, cooking meals together, finding somewhere to live where his own classic furniture could fit with Mike’s more modern style. What he _couldn’t_ seem to imagine was being in bed with Mike. He’d never been with anyone taller than himself for a start, and most of his previous lovers – not that there had been many – had been dark. More like Keiji, in fact. But something about Mike had made him feel at home. Was that wrong? Yes, it would be Valentine’s Day tomorrow, on the day of his second date with whichever of the three men he decided to choose, but not everything had to be hearts and flowers did it? Was it really a bad thing if he was more inclined to follow his head than his heart – or any other bit of his anatomy? Surely reason was much more likely than blind lust to lead him to the kind of settled relationship he was becoming more and more certain he wanted?

He barely acknowledged the film crew as the camera followed him up the path of the small, anonymously modern house with its impeccably kept, if tiny, garden. The front door was painted a dark green, which Erwin rather liked. There was no bell, so he lifted the polished doorknocker and rapped twice.

The door opened. Erwin found that he had to look down into the face of his final date, and his first feeling was one of slight disappointment in spite of himself – _he’s very short!_

Then their eyes met, and Erwin lost his grip on the bottle of wine he was carrying. The short man caught it half way to the ground. Erwin blinked. “Wow. Sorry. That’s… You have impressive reactions.”

“Tch. I’m not spending half the evening sponging -” Erwin’s date looked at the label on the bottle – “hmm – really quite good Malbec – off my walls. Come in. Try not to break anything. I’m Levi.”

“Erwin.” He stopped in the hallway to take off his shoes. He wasn’t sure why – he hadn’t done it on the last two dates – but something made him feel it would be a good idea, and, besides, it gave him a chance to gather himself. Hange’s descriptions of the feeling had been inadequate – _sparks - that electric buzz_. More like a full-on lightning strike that was still burning through his veins… _Why? What was it about this Levi that –_

“You coming in, or am I going to have to decorate around you next time?” Levi asked from the dining room door, the little frown between his eyebrows sending a pulse of longing through Erwin for no reason he could name.

“This is better than the stuff I bought for tonight,” Levi said, looking at the wine bottle in his hands as Erwin entered the dining room, still feeling dazed. “Want a glass?”

“Um, yes. Yes, thank you.”

Levi disappeared with the bottle. Erwin looked anywhere but at the film crew. “First impressions?” the director asked. Erwin shook his head slowly. “Too early to tell.” It was only half a lie. He still didn’t know how he felt about the undeniable impact Levi had on him. From a rational point of view it made no sense. Levi was _very_ short, there was no getting away from that – his dry sarcasm was something Erwin thought he would probably appreciate in general, but too much of it could become annoying – he definitely lacked Mike’s inclusive warmth. Objectively he wasn’t even better looking than Mike, although their features were too different to make it easy to weigh them against each other in any sort of aesthetic scale… Erwin’s mind drifted, wondering what an aesthetic scale might look like, trying to distract himself from thinking too hard about why it was that he found Levi’s the most compelling face he had ever seen.

“Here,” Levi said, thrusting a wineglass at him. “Cheers.”

“Yes,” Erwin replied, unable to get a grip on himself at all. “Uh – thanks.”

They stared at each other for an awkwardly long while.

“I’ll - get the starter,” Levi said, at last.

“Hold on!” the director interrupted. Both Levi and Erwin turned to look at her.

“What is it?” Levi asked, his tone somehow vaguely threatening despite its flatness.

“It’s – just – we need to do the sofa chat first. Sit down, drink some wine, get to know each other. Five minutes is all we need.”

“Right, yes, I remember,” Erwin said. He waited, looking to Levi for permission to sit on the pristine leather sofa.

Levi nodded. Erwin sat. Levi joined him, perched uncomfortably up against one arm, as far away from Erwin as it was physically possible to get. There was another silence.

“So… what do you do?” Erwin attempted.

Levi glowered at him unhappily. “Done a lot of shi – uh – stuff. At the moment I’m a wine waiter.”

“Oh – interesting. Where?”

“Some fancy-ass restaurant. Does it matter?”

It didn’t. Erwin didn’t know what to say. “I’m in finance, myself.”

Levi’s expression echoed Erwin’s thought that there really wasn’t much to be said to that. Erwin tried again. “What made you want to come on this show?”

Levi scowled. “Lost a bet with a co-worker.”

“I see.” Erwin was struggling to keep up the conversation, such as it was, but even so, he could hardly believe his own ears when he heard himself asking, “It’s a cliché I know, but – have we met somewhere before?”

Levi raised his eyes to the ceiling.

“It’s just – there’s something… familiar…”

“No. I’d remember.”

Erwin gave Levi a quick look, wondering if there was a compliment hidden in there somewhere. Levi’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as though he were about to speak again, but he said nothing. Erwin had no idea why that sent a hot rush of lust directly to his loins. “I see. I must be mistaken.”

“Yeah.” Levi looked down into his glass, and, with a visible effort, made himself take a sip. Erwin watched him swallow, and hoped his jeans were loose enough to conceal the swelling that was starting there.

“This wine’s not bad at all,” Levi said, not looking up from the glass.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Fuck of a lot better than the shit we charge a fortune for at work.”

“No, no – Mr. Ackerman – we can’t broadcast that kind of language!” the director cried, exasperated by more than Levi’s swearing.

Levi looked at her, taking a moment to remember what he’d said to cause offence. “Oh – right. Yeah, sorry. Can I get the starter now?”

The director sighed. “I think you’d better. We can always come back to this segment later.”    

Levi was out of the sitting room before she’d finished speaking. Erwin took a large gulp of wine, tasting nothing, trying to delay the inevitable question.

“Can we have your first impressions _now_?” the director asked.

“Yes. Okay. Well – he’s not… not my usual type.”

“In what way? Be specific. Too awkward? Too short?”

Erwin was surprised by the surge of anger he felt at that. “What? _No!_ I don’t judge people on… That is… no, that’s not it. More, he’s…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure.” Taking refuge in platitudes, Erwin gave up. “It’s early days. We’ll have to see how it goes. He’s… interesting.”

 

“You can come through now,” Levi said.

The dining room was small and sparsely furnished, but the circular wooden table was laid to a professional-looking standard. What had been described on the menu as _spiced chicken salad_ turned out to be a delicious Thai recipe of minced chicken served on crisp lettuce leaves.

“Hope it’s not too hot,” Levi said, taking a seat opposite Erwin. “I grow the chillies, and it’s hit and miss how hot they turn out.”

“It’s really good,” Erwin replied, making sure not to speak through a mouthful of food. “I’m glad you said _spiced_ on the menu, not _hot ’n’ spicy_ or something. One of the menu options I didn’t choose was nothing but innuendo – the starter was _sausage surprise_.”

Levi winced. “Yeah. Subtle.”

“Although I do like a good sausage,” Erwin added.

“Yeah? You should try mine.”

They stared at each other, aghast.

\- “I meant, really, I like actual –”

\- “I mean, I _make_ them – real ones, I mean, from locally –”

“I wasn’t –”

“Neither was I.”

It was the first time all evening that Levi had smiled. It was a fleeting thing, tentative, oddly sweet. Erwin experienced an almost irresistible urge to kiss him. He actually leaned forward unconsciously, before he realised what he was doing and sat back in the chair. A strange, tingling heat ran through his whole body. Levi was watching him. “You okay? Is it too hot in here?”

“No – no it’s fine. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.”

“Hm. I sometimes have that effect on people.”

“You have it on me, anyway,” Erwin agreed. A look of dismay crossed Levi’s face before he concealed it with a frown. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Erwin shook his head vehemently. “No – no, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. You – It’s what I said before, about feeling as though we’d met. I –” Helpless to explain himself, he made a sweeping gesture with one hand and sent the wineglass flying. “Shit! Sorry – sorry. I’ll – Let me –”

Levi was on his feet. “No. It’s okay. You – just keep still. Is there wine in your food?”

Erwin looked at his plate. “No – it’s – mostly on your rug, I’m afraid.” The rug was subtly striped in shades of pale, bluish grey, now marred by a dark, spreading stain on the end nearest Erwin.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with it. Stand up a minute.” Levi picked up the glass, miraculously unbroken, and took it to the kitchen. Then he returned and, lifting the table a couple of inches on one side then the other, managed to slip the rug out from under it without causing further damage. He rolled up the rug, stain-inwards, and took it away. Erwin heard running water from somewhere upstairs. Barely a minute later, Levi returned, clean glass in hand. He refilled the glass and handed it to Erwin.

“I’m sorry,” Erwin said again. “I’m not normally this clumsy.”

“It’s okay. It’s not easy, with your left -”

“What?”

Levi blinked. “I…don’t know why I said that. Ignore that. I was… thinking of something else.”

“If the stain doesn’t come out, I’ll buy you a new rug.”

“I’ll get it out. Forget about it.”

“All right. Thanks.” Erwin ate the rest of his starter in silence. Levi watched him, the little frown back between his eyebrows. “Maybe you were right,” he said, when Erwin put down his knife and fork. “Perhaps we _have_ met somewhere before. I wish I could remember where.”

“I’ve been racking my brain,” Erwin said, “but there’s nothing specific.”

“Well, like I said, I’ve worked in a lot of places.”

“I don’t know. It feels like – a long time ago.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

“Stop!” the director interrupted. “This is no good. Either you know each other or you don’t - or there’s no story. I know you’re not sure, but that makes terrible television. Can we film five minutes of talking about normal stuff – hobbies, let’s say – and you can continue the whole ‘where do I know you from’ thing later?”

Levi scowled at her. Erwin nodded apologetically. “Sure, yes.” He cleared his throat. “So – Levi – what do you like to do in your spare time?”

“Not much. I walk. Climb. I used to do a lot of gymnastics, when I was younger. You?”

“I like walking, too. I read a lot. I’ve done some climbing.”

“Yeah? Where?”

After that the conversation flowed a little more smoothly, and, although there were still plenty of pauses, they didn’t feel so much awkward as reflective. The thought of Levi in climbing gear sparked something that almost became a memory for Erwin, but he couldn’t quite catch at it.

When the starter was over, Levi took Erwin’s order for his steak – medium rare, verging on rare – and vanished back into the kitchen. The director seemed happier now. “That was better. The climbing stuff was fine. What did you think of the starter?”

“Best food so far,” Erwin said. “He can definitely cook.”

“And you like a man who can cook?”

“Who doesn’t?” Erwin replied, careful not to give anything away. Talking to the director and the crew was a good way to distract himself from thinking too much about the way every time he looked into Levi’s unaccountably familiar grey eyes, he felt his temperature spike, and his heart rate quicken.

Levi returned with the steaks, perfectly done, served with an optional pepper sauce, creamy celeriac mash and steamed vegetables that were neither too crunchy nor over-cooked. Erwin was impressed. “Meat used to be such a luxury,” he said.

Levi gave him a startled look. “I… suppose so.”

Erwin shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not sure why I said that. This is really excellent. Where did you buy the steak?”

The evening passed more conventionally after that, aided by the consumption of the rest of the wine and a pear and frangipane tart with homemade vanilla ice cream that was probably the best desert Erwin had ever eaten, described on the menu simply as _pear tart_.

“I liked how simple your menu sounded,” he commented, as Levi cleared away the empty dishes, “but the food was so much better than the descriptions! You really sold yourself shor – uh – you undersold yourself.”

“Right…Thanks.” Levi’s tone was absolutely flat. He didn’t look back at Erwin as he disappeared back into the kitchen with the plates. Erwin felt sick at his own stupidity, but knew anything he added – any apology he tried to give – would only make the situation more awkward. It wasn’t even as though he could pretend to himself that Levi’s height wasn’t something of an issue, whatever he’d told the director earlier. In fact, it was exactly the excuse he needed to allow him to ignore the worryingly intense attraction he felt for Levi, and to stick to his original, sensible plan of picking Mike. It even came with a handy side of guilt at his own shallowness, which stopped him from having to examine his real feelings too deeply.

In view of Erwin’s tactlessness, their final farewells were bound to be awkward.

“Well, thank you. The food was wonderful,” Erwin managed.

Levi only looked at him. “You’re welcome.”

There was a pause, unrelieved by any of the usual conventions – no handshake, no pat on the back. A kiss was unthinkable, and all Erwin could think about. His smile felt so fake it was making his face hurt. Levi didn’t even pretend to smile. The door was closed before Erwin had even reached the street.

It opened again, of course, for the camera crew to emerge a minute or two later, but Levi was nowhere in sight.

“So,” the director asked, before Erwin entered the car that would take him home, “how would you ‘rate the date’?”

“I… It’s not… Um… The food was excellent. But I didn’t feel that the conversation… I’m going to give it three out of five.”

The director smiled in a way Erwin didn’t quite like. “Hm. Well, I guess you’ll have to wait for the broadcast to hear what _he_ said. So – all set for tomorrow? Who’s going to accompany you on your Valentine’s date?”

Erwin was taken by surprise. On the show, the viewer only found out which of the three contestants had been picked when the dater turned up at the winner’s door, the other two receiving microwave meals on their doorstep instead. “Do I have to decide now?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. We need to be ready for tomorrow.”

Erwin took a breath. He could almost hear Hange screaming at him to go with his gut feeling, and he felt like a traitor to more than her as he said it, but he still made himself reply, “Number One. I’m going with Mike.”

*

When the final segment of the winning date had been filmed, Erwin told the film crew to cancel the car they’d ordered for him.

“Oh?” the director asked with a suggestive smile, “Going on somewhere with Mike?”

“No. I feel like walking home, that’s all. Thanks for all this. It’s been… an enlightening experience.”

As he walked towards his home, Erwin reflected on his second date with Mike. It had gone well – very well. Probably the easiest date he’d ever been on. Mike was all Erwin had hoped and expected him to be: relaxed, quietly confident, warm, interesting. And as soon as the camera crew had left the restaurant to allow them to finish their meal in peace, he had looked Erwin in the eye and said, “This has been fun. Too bad your heart’s not in it – huh – especially considering the day! But – and I know this is a cliché – I think we could be friends. I’ll give you my number. We should go out for a drink sometime.”

“We… could go on to a bar now?” Erwin had suggested, still fighting against the inevitable, for reasons he didn’t fully understand.

“I don’t think so,” Mike had replied. “I think there’s somewhere else you need to be.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Erwin had said, looking away.

Mike had smiled. “Okay. Well – I hope you figure it out. Keep in touch, anyway. And – Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Stopping on the street, Erwin took his phone out of his pocket and opened maps. It was most likely insane – he could just imagine the look on Levi’s face if he turned up on his doorstep at midnight after sending him a microwave lasagne on Valentine’s Day – but that was the whole problem: he _could_ imagine it. He could imagine Levi’s face in every little detail, as though he’d known it for years instead of just a few of the most uncomfortable hours of his life - and he longed – yearned – to see it again.

 

When Levi finally opened the door, he was wearing a dark green bathrobe and an expression Erwin couldn’t decipher. “Still hungry after your date? I’m afraid the lasagne’s in the bin.”

“Where it deserves to be.” Erwin could only hope that he sounded as genuinely contrite as he felt.

“Tch.” Levi gave him a long, level look. “Well?”

“Well – I… I know I don’t deserve… But, if you would consider…”

Levi raised his hand. “Stop.”

Erwin fell silent. Levi turned away. When he reached the foot of the stairs, he paused, hand on the newel post, and looked back at Erwin, the familiar, impatient frown back between his eyes. “So? Are you coming in, or what?”

Erwin entered the house, and closed the door firmly behind him.

*

Watching Levi as he set the two glasses and the bottle of champagne on the coffee table, Erwin thought he seemed unusually jittery.

“Okay?” he asked, as Levi took a seat on the couch next to him. Levi nodded. “Yeah. It’ll be weird though – seeing ourselves on TV.”

Erwin shook his head, smiling. “More embarrassing for me than for you, after the mess I made of our date. Hange’s invited Moblit and Mike round to watch it back at my old place. I don’t suppose I’ll ever hear the end of choosing Mike. I’m surprised you didn’t want to watch it with them – see their reactions.”

“No. I’d rather it was just us, for the actual broadcast. We can watch it again later with our friends.”

Erwin put his hand on Levi’s thigh and leaned over to kiss him. “At least we know how it ends.”

“Yeah – with you going off to a romantic Valentine’s dinner with Mike.”

“But you’ve forgiven me, haven’t you?”

Levi looked at him. “Hm. Maybe. I’m not sure I’ve forgiven you for only giving me three stars though.”

“Not you – the date.”

“Same thing.”

“Not the same thing at all. Anyway, you won’t even tell me what you gave me!”

“Wait and see.”

“I’m guessing one out of five. Or a half? Or was it in minus figures?”

“You’ll just have to wait.”

“Tease…” Erwin’s hand moved further up Levi’s thigh. Heat flared in both of them again. Six months together, and Erwin moving into Levi’s house, had only increased the intensity of whatever it was that drew them to each other. Levi put his own hand over Erwin’s, though, and turned his head away with a visible effort of will. “Not yet, Erwin.” He turned on the TV, and pressed record on the remote. “Watch.”

The _Rate the Date_ theme tune was a brash jingle, the titles a garish mix of primary-coloured heart-strewn fonts.

“Can’t believe I ever agreed to go on this,” Levi sighed.

“Shouldn’t make bets with your co-workers.”

“No. And you shouldn’t take suggestions from Hange.”

“Ha – yes. Still – without Hange and Petra…”

“Yeah.”

They fell silent as the presenter introduced Erwin. Levi laughed aloud when Erwin first appeared, looking awkward in jeans and a blazer, picking from the five menus. “You look like a wannabe hipster Geography teacher.”

“I would have liked to teach, like my dad,” Erwin said. “I suppose it’s never too late…”

“It’s not. Do it.”

“You think? It would be quite a drop in salary.”

“As long as you can live on it, doing what makes you happy is more important.”

“Hmm. I knew there was a reason I picked you.”

“Huh. You didn’t exactly pick me, as we’re about to see. Oh, look. There’s Mike.” Levi fell silent as he watched the progress of Erwin’s date with Mike. “Yeah,” he said, when the date was over, and the ratings given. “Mike’s a good guy. I get why you picked him.”

“He’s nice,” Erwin said. “But he isn’t you.”

Levi rolled his eyes, but Erwin knew him well enough by now to sense that he was pleased nonetheless.

“Can we have some of that champagne yet?” Erwin asked during the ad break.

“Not yet. I want to see our date first.”

Erwin’s expression was rueful. “I’m a bit apprehensive, actually. I’m going to look like an idiot – dropping the bottle, spilling the wine. And some of the things I _said_ …”

“How I was selling myself _short_?” Levi prompted.

Erwin groaned. “Don’t remind me! God – whatever terrible rating you gave me, I deserved it!”

“I _am_ short,” Levi said. “And it was an issue for you, wasn’t it?”

Erwin stilled. It was a conversation they had avoided. “Only for a second. As soon as I saw you properly -”

“Is it why you picked Mike?”

Erwin met Levi’s suddenly anxious gaze. “No!”

“No?”

Erwin found that he couldn’t be anything but completely honest with Levi. “It gave me an excuse not to choose you,” he admitted. “But that’s all it was – a coward’s excuse.”

Levi relaxed fractionally, but his whole body was still oddly tense. “Right. That’s pretty much what I thought. What I hoped, anyway.”

“You’re not angry?”

“That you were scared? No. I was scared too. When we met… I never believed in that shit. Love at first sight… all that.”

“No.”

“And the weird things… Like, when we start to say something that makes no sense…”

“Not in this life, anyway,” Erwin finished.

Levi nodded slowly. “Yeah. But I don’t believe in any of that crap. Past lives… souls…”

“Nor do I. But we still know so little… I was reading something the other day, about alternate universes, multiverses, where everything that _can_ happen _does_ happen. Infinitely branching possibilities. In the face of ideas like that, who can say what’s possible and what isn’t?”

Levi frowned, in the way the Erwin had come to learn meant he was struggling with something rather than that he was angry. “Erwin – I don’t know about all that stuff. I don’t even know if I _want_ to know. But - I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yes, Levi. And I love you.”

“Good. Okay then.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Shut up and watch.”

Erwin turned his attention back to the screen, as his date with Keiji was shown. Levi was silent, sitting very still, looking more nervous than Erwin had ever seen him.

“It’s okay,” Erwin said. “There’s nothing –”

“Shh. It’s us in a minute.”

“All right, then.” Erwin took Levi’s unresisting hand, and they watched together as their disaster of a date unfolded on the screen. Despite judicious editing, the awkwardness between them was painfully apparent. Erwin flinched when his on-screen self dropped the bottle, and again when he knocked over the wineglass. He felt his face growing hot when he made the ‘selling yourself short’ comment, and his obvious, stumbling attempt to cover it up, too late.

“Levi – whatever you said – however bad the rating – after my behaviour, you can’t think I’d –”

“Shh! It’s coming.”

Erwin realised that Levi’s hand in his own was trembling. “Levi?”

“Watch!”

“So,” the presenter was asking, “spilled wine aside, how did Levi rate the date?”

The scene cut to Levi, looking into the camera. “I’m not rating it. The date was a train wreck. Erwin’s most likely giving me three out of five just to be polite, and I know he’s not going to pick me for the show… But it doesn’t matter. He’s an idiot, but I’m still going to marry him, if has the sense to say yes.”

Erwin became aware that Levi had moved from the couch, still holding his hand, and was down on one knee on the rug in front of him. There was a small box in his free hand. Erwin stared at him. Levi waved the open box impatiently, the simple gold ring inside gleaming in the reflected light from the television. “Well?”

Erwin reached for Levi and gathered him into his arms. “Yes, Levi! Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”

“Good.” Levi pulled Erwin into a long, relieved kiss. “That’s settled then. You wanna watch the rest of this shitty show, or shall we go upstairs?”

“Going upstairs sounds like an excellent idea.”

Levi grabbed the glasses and the champagne from the table, and Erwin followed him out of the room, neither of them remembering to turn off the TV.

On the screen, Levi opened his front door to find a microwave lasagne waiting for him. Then the scene cut to his kitchen, to show him dropping the entire lasagne into the bin, still in its packaging. Levi let the bin swing closed, and looked back into the camera with a single decisive shake of his head, and a small, resilient smile.


End file.
